


Time to count up, I say

by D20Owlbear



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aspec Friendly, Beach Holidays, Crowley still maintains she won in the end, Established Relationship, F/F, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Heads up there's no way it's Crowley, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Marseille France beaches, Maybe the real prize was all the people we annoyed along the way, Naked Cuddling, One of whom is far more competent than the other, Rated T for Tourists, Thwarting and Wiling, Wagers and bets, bickerflirting, honest to god they're just a very in love married old couple ok, jk it's napping on angel tiddies, just the Inherent Intimacy of Touching Bodies NonSexually, no hanky panky, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/pseuds/D20Owlbear
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are on a beach holiday, and to entertain themselves, they've got a bit of a wager.Thwarting wiles and blessings alike, who will manage to get more in as they walk along the beach before the other undoes all their (un)good work?Crowley scowled and readjusted her sunglasses on her face to get her head back in the game and shot a look at a jogger's shoes, untying them with a glare so that he'd trip up. Aziraphale simply flicked her finger in a casual gesture and the shoes were tied neatly and firmly. The soles were probably more comfortable too, damnit."Aziraphale!" Crowley gasped and collapsed a sandcastle with a large wave to the horror of the parent and the delight of the child who'd been snuck up upon by the ocean. "How very rude, thwarting me right in front of my ice cream!""Oh, ice cream? I could do with an ice lolly…." Aziraphale fluttered her lashes at Crowley.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: Ineffable Wives Exchange 2020





	Time to count up, I say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waterofthemoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterofthemoon/gifts).



> I had a lot of fun writing this, thank you to the Wives server for running this and I really really hope you like this gift waterofthemoon!
> 
> Hopefully to fulfill at least 2/3 of prompts given:  
> going on vacation, making a bet with each other, stealing each other's clothes

The sun was high up and the cicadas droned on in their screams and two creatures who were not wholly human walked along the coast of Marseille. The crowds were out en force enjoying the sun just as much as the cicadas.

"What're you on, angel?" Crowley murmured, head turned to eye up an ice cream cart on the road where the beach turned into something more man-made than coastal. She wondered if, perhaps, a distraction would do her any good or if it might buy her some more time to win their bet if she needed it.

"Oh, my dear, but that'd be _telling_ ," Aziraphale smiled beatifically, cherubic as a painted angel. She was rosy-cheeked under the warm sun and bright-eyed with all the love and joy in the air for the first real beach day of the season.

"Of course it's telling, you'd be telling me!" Crowley snorted and pulled at Aziraphale's hand where it was nestled snugly in her grip, squeezing it three times only to grin wickedly at the way Aziraphale lit up even more, her hair puffing at the ends like a too-pleased bird at Crowley’s love. She'd never told Aziraphale she did it, for fear of Aziraphale becoming self-conscious about it. Crowley found it endlessly charming, deserving of adoration. Every part of her…

No, wait, she was getting distracted!

Crowley scowled and readjusted her sunglasses on her face to get her head back in the game and shot a look at a jogger's shoes, untying them with a glare so that he'd trip up. Aziraphale simply flicked her finger in a casual gesture and the shoes were tied neatly and firmly. The soles were probably more comfortable too, damnit.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley gasped and collapsed a sandcastle with a large wave to the horror of the parent and the delight of the child who'd been snuck up upon by the ocean. "How very rude, thwarting me right in front of my ice cream!"

"Oh, ice cream? I could do with an ice lolly…." Aziraphale fluttered her lashes at Crowley.

Crowley sighed loudly and rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses, confident Aziraphale would know she had. "Oh very well, _I suppose_ , just this once, I could get you one."

Aziraphale giggled behind her hand and Crowley leaned forward while pulling Aziraphale closer by their linked fingers. Crowley smiled rakishly and put all the temptation she could sans any actual demonic power into her voice, "But I'll do it for a kiss, from the prettiest lady in France"

The giggle turned into a snorting laugh, entirely unbecoming but utterly endearing from Aziraphale, who was perfect for all her flaws. Crowley could only ever love her more for the way she was so utterly, unabashedly herself. She wasn't the praying type, of course, but Crowley couldn't help but thank God, just this once, for such a beautiful wife to love.

"Oh, I am so sincerely sorry, my love." Aziraphale grinned and cupped Crowley's cheek, and Crowley was sure her heart would never stop skipping a beat when _"my love"_ left Aziraphale's lips or she so casually touched Crowley with all that searing love in her eyes. "But I cannot offer you the most beautiful woman in all of France, for she is my wife, you see. However, I would be more than happy to provide you a kiss nonetheless."

Crowley may—or may not!—have made a noise that could only generously be described as a sound on the fringes of human ability, before she devolved into snorting laughter, her head falling to land on Aziraphale's shoulder as she laughed, with nary a thought spared to looking cool.

"I'll take it!" Crowley giggled still through her words and pulled herself up to properly kiss Aziraphale right there on the beach, in front of the ice cream cart, still holding hands. And it was wonderful, it was simple and it was half-ruined by her inability to stop smiling so wide it was barely even a kiss at all, which was proved quickly to be rather contagious going by Aziraphale's soft, delighted huff of a laugh.

All in all, it was a rather perfect day.

Crowley got her ice cream and ate the flake from it, enjoying the crunch, then bit out the bottom of the ice cream cone before handing over the sticky thing to Aziraphale after she'd finished her ice lolly. She wondered vaguely, as Aziraphale gave her an entirely unimpressed look at the melting tube of vanilla ice cream once Crowley passed it over, if Aziraphale was distracting her better than she was distracting Aziraphale…

_Naaah_ , Crowley would be fine, Aziraphale was thwarting most (but not all!) of Crowley's bids, but Crowley was catching a handful of Aziraphale's and they were so _obvious_.

_Sometimes_ , Crowley wondered while shaking her head and laughing at Aziraphale's expression as ice cream dripped down both her hands, sure to leave her sticky and delicious, _I just don't know how she managed all those temptations and curses through the years…_ But it worked, and that's all that mattered in the end, Crowley supposed.

Much later, during a walk along the shore while holding their shoes in their free hands and fingers laced between them, Aziraphale managed to trick Crowley into the waves just far enough to get the hems of her capris wet and then hip-checked her further into the oncoming wave. Crowley popped up, sputtering, and grinning like a loon to chase after her wife. She'd been led on a merry chase all the way back to their hotel, laughing and playing all the while. It had been a long time, it felt like, since they played like this, carefree and utterly, recklessly in love. Thinking back, the last time might have been Rome, or even Greece, beneath cypress leaves and grinning 'round the trunks of poplars, play-acting at dryads and naiads and satyrs alike.

Finally catching up to her wife, Crowley wrapped her arms around Aziraphale's plush waist and held her tight to her chest. Crowley nuzzled her still damp face into the crook of Aziraphale's neck and grinned wildly against the warm skin there as she dripped seawater from her hair all over Aziraphale's shoulder.

"Oh you fiend!" Aziraphale laughed, clearly just as happy at their antics as Crowley was, and the confirmation of the joy in her voice was unlike any drug Crowley could conceive, heady and thrilling and everything Crowley had ever wanted. Aziraphale's joy was, in a word, addictive beyond all measure.

"Mhm, I am indeed," Crowley purred, tightening her grip on Aziraphale's waist for a moment before turning her hands to Aziraphale's hips and nibbling gently, teasingly, at the side of Aziraphale's neck. "Going to stop me?"

"Well, I'm sure I must," Aziraphale dithered, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth demurely, hiding a pleasant smile and happy enough to indulge in their age-old games. "It's my job, you see. I simply couldn't let you get away with it, my dear."

"Oh, _well then_ , if it's your job, who 'm I to stop you, angel?" Crowley scraped her teeth over sensitive skin and nosed into the curls straying from the pins just behind Aziraphale's ear. Aziraphale took a deep, steadying breath in and twisted in Crowley's grasp until they were face to face, crooning wordlessly at her wife and cupping her hands around Crowley's jaw.

"My _dear_ , I can't imagine you'd _want_ to stop me… you never have before." Aziraphale's eyes twinkled brightly and if Crowley's entire brain hadn't suddenly, unexpectedly, gone out for lunch, no one home, the lights left on in a quick evacuation at the innuendo, she'd surely have something wittier to say than, " _munghh?"_

Crowley sputtered for a moment before melting into a kiss, leaning down and perfectly happy to move wherever Aziraphale led her to. She was always happy to follow Aziraphale, or lead, whatever her angel liked, Crowley was an expert in providing. And, well, with how quickly the kiss became heated, Crowley regained just a bit of her faculties and herded them both to an elevator with a breathy, _"Room."_

Crowley wasn't entirely sure if there was a natural time dilation in being pressed up against an elevator wall with by your significant other or if Aziraphale had somehow made the elevator slow to a crawl and simultaneously rocket up to their floor, but she couldn't bring herself to complain much, not with Aziraphale's hands under her sodden shirt and thick, gorgeous thigh parting Crowley's own. Either way, they made it up to the floor and fumbled a little over their own feet until Aziraphale gave up maneuvering around Crowley and picked her up in a bridal carry, which never failed to make Crowley's heart swoop a bit in her chest, and walked the both of them to their room with sure footsteps.

"Hot, angel." Crowley laughed and waggled her eyebrows over the tops of her sunglasses as Aziraphale fiddled with the key card and tried not to drop Crowley at the same time. With just a bit of pity, and quite a lot of humor, Crowley flicked a finger and the door unlocked just long enough to open and for Aziraphale to deposit her wife inside.

"Shush, you," Aziraphale pursed her lips, grabbed the key, and shut the door behind them, plunging them into the golden light of magic hour filtering through the window-wall and gauzy privacy curtains. "Or I'll–"

"You'll what?" Crowley slunk up against Aziraphale's front and reveled in the feel of her warm body pressed up against Crowley's once more, her hands gentle and loose on Aziraphale's waist as she leaned down just enough to share breath and brush lips with every word.

"Wouldn't you like to find out, dear?" Aziraphale murmured, tilting her head so that when she looked up at Crowley to make eye contact, it was through a haze of eyelashes fluttering like every stereotype of an innocent maid at her first ball. Crowley couldn't help the snort of laughter that left her, on occasion it was alluring, but more often than not these days it was simply funny to think of Aziraphale as untouched and utterly pure of any pleasures of the flesh…

"After you, angel, of course," Crowley replied with a snakey grin widening her lips.

"Ah-ta," Aziraphale smiled primly back, tapping Crowley's nose. "We've a bet, do we not?"

Crowley snorted again. "Pfft, you think you won?"

"Oh no, my darling dearest, I don't think I've won, I _know_ I have." Aziraphale pulled away and strode over to the foot of the over-large bed in the middle of the hotel room, crooking her finger for Crowley to follow. "Now come here. Time to count up, I say."

_"Time to count up, I say."_ Crowley mocked back, but sauntered over all the same.

"Start with your shirt, dear." Aziraphale raked her eyes over Crowley's frame in a way that made Crowley smirk and cock a hip saucily.

"For what? I caught all your blessings and thwarted them, must've."

Aziraphale giggled and shook her head, "Oh you most certainly did not. On our way to the beach, I cured a toddler's diaper rash."

Crowley scowled. "Oi! You know I wasn't about to thwart that!" Crowley didn't mention that she hadn't noticed, not when Aziraphale had taken her hand the moment they stepped out of the hotel and began their trek. But she growled and tore her shirt off, tossing it to the floor with a vaguely damp smack on the tile by the bathroom.

"And when we got to the waves, I saved a rather large, impressive sandcastle from the waves." Crowley's eye twitched behind her sunglasses, fuck she'd thought that was just the moat the group of teens had built up and even pointed out the clever planning to Aziraphale, bloody hell. Crowley shimmied out of wet jean capris with all the grace of a deep-sea fish on dry land, and had to toe off her sandals to do so. She'd nearly fallen over onto the bed but caught herself just in time to throw the jeans a bit more forcefully onto the tile atop her shirt. Aziraphale raised an amused eyebrow and Crowley only growled.

"Yeah, well, _I_ caused a sunburn to deepen on that sleeping fratboy!" Crowley shot back and Aziraphale shook her head.

"I think not, love, luckily his dear friend was there to remind him to put on some aloe-sunscreen and drink water to mitigate the redness he'd had. How fortuitous!"

"Oh you _are_ an utter bastard." Crowley pouted back, frowning deeply, "Well I know you didn't catch the holes in the sun umbrellas…"

"They're quite convenient, you see, when a wind picked up a little later, and none of those umbrellas flew off like a few from further down the beach, how lucky." Aziraphale smiled, a soft, innocent thing that Crowley had never wanted more than to kiss it roughly off her face.

"Oh that doesn't even count as yours! I'm the one that did it and you didn't fix it, bless it, angel!"

Aziraphale sighed, as if utterly put upon, and Crowley growled in response. "Very well, dear, if it'll make you feel better…" Aziraphale unknotted the tie of her wrap-around sundress at her hip and let it fall open to reveal bare expanses of skin underneath.

"Angel," Crowley purred, tune changed rather quickly, "naughty, naughty angel. All wrapped up and no underthings? Risque of you…"

Aziraphale only smiled, let her wrap dress drop and puddle around her feet, and pulled Crowley forward by the hips. "Your turn now, love. While I like your brassiere just fine and the matching knickers, you're far prettier out of that lace."

Crowley groaned softly and swayed forward towards the warmth of Aziraphale's skin before wheeling back and flailing her arms. "Hey now! I'm not letting you win by _forfeit_ just 'cause you wanted to flaunt around without your skivvies!"

Aziraphale rolled her eyes rather spectacularly and sat on the bed, leaning back languidly on her hands, crossing a leg over her knee. "Very well then, my dear. I've still got my hairpin in —ah! It absolutely counts if your sunglasses do!— and you've got nothing else left on your plate to deal with…"

"I've got _plenty_ up my nonexistent sleeves!" Crowley scoffed and crowded up to loom over Aziraphale, bending at the waist and placing her hands on the bed to lean with a wicked grin, kissing across Aziraphale's shoulders. "Flat on a bike."

"Fixed, barely a bump."

"Hn, sandy sandwich!"

"Oh, no worries, saved at the last second, retroactively, of course."

"Aziraphale, you're killin' me!" Crowley muttered, half-distracted again at the dark red lip prints left across Aziraphale's chest, slowly moving lower and lower.

"Not yet, I think." Aziraphale sighed, letting her head fall to the side to expose her tempting neck, "Kids found exactly enough change on the ground by the ice cream cart."

Crowley hissed, that was her?! Bless it! "Fine!" With a single hand to reach around, Crowley unhooked her bra and let it fall off her shoulders into Aziraphale's lap, moving her position only enough to pull her hands out of the straps and re-settle to scatter a few love bites over the tops of Aziraphale's breasts.

"Skateboarder's sandpaper tape thing starting to peel, he'll fall off in another hour or so." Crowley murmured, reaching up to take the silver barrette and pin Aziraphale wore, only to be stopped with a hand on her wrist and a kiss to the palm of her hand.

"Do no fret, dearest, he noticed there was something off about his board and came across a new lifelong friend willing to help him fix it!"

"You bloody sap!" Crowley groused and opened her mouth, wracking her head for things she'd thought had gotten past Aziraphale's notice. There was… less than she thought actually.

"Did you catch the dolphins bullying away a shark from the beach?"

"Wot? N– no you fucking well know I didn't! In the water, Aziraphale, really? Sat– Chri– uuugh!" Crowley stood and threw up her hands and pushed her silk and lace french knickers off her high hips to fall at her feet.

Aziraphale hummed in surprise and brought her hands up to smooth over Crowley's sides from her ribcage all the way down to her thighs in slow, sweeping strokes. "Oh, I had thought you'd take off your glasses first, for some reason."

"Angel, _please_." Crowley rolled her eyes and pushed Aziraphale back down onto the bed, climbing onto her lap and humming happily at finally having all the skin on skin touching. Her hair was still a little bit wet but no longer dripped down her back, not very often at least, but that wasn't something she was overly worried about since she wouldn't get cold any time soon, not with the heat of Aziraphale against her.

"Not yet, love, we're still dressed." Aziraphale said, coquettishly batting her eyes at Crowley and pulled herself up to the head of the bed; Crowley crawled after her, would have done so even if Aziraphale hadn't kept hold of her wrist.

"Dressed? Pah! I've never been dressed a day in my life…" Crowley breathed and leaned down to lick and nip gently at Aziraphale's nipples.

Aziraphale groaned softly and pulled Crowley down to rest her chin on Aziraphale's chest and to cradle her body between Aziraphale's thighs. "Come now, my dear girl, we've still got a game, don't we?"

Crowley gave a lazy hum, mumbling something about _"soft, warm angel tits"_ before nuzzling against Aziraphale. "Mhmm fuck it, forfeit," Crowley muttered, yanking off her sunglasses and letting them clatter to the floor, having missed the bedside table, without a care in order to shove her face better into Azirpahale's chest.

Her soft laugh made Crowley jump a little, but Crowley just wrapped her arms around Aziraphale's waist and held tighter. "Alre'dy won," she whispered with a self-satisfied grin, "Got'cha, don' I? Trapped, silly angel…."

Aziraphale smiled, content and happy and so filled with soft, quiet joy, she emanated a gentle glow that'd keep the room just barely lit with golden light far past sunset. "Yes, my love, you have me always. And I've got you, a wily tempter whom I love dearly." Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hair and gently untangled sea-soaked clumps of it until it was no longer so stringy and would dry faster, if coarser than normal from the salt.

Crowley sighed and kept her mouth open just enough to breathe through and take in the scent of Aziraphale; the warm, old book-lignin and wine-tannin with the faint, watery char of old soot-ink was comfortable and known and the smell of _home_ no matter where in the world they might be.

It was not surprising, in the morning, for Crowley to realize that she fell asleep like that, wrapped around and held by the best angel of them all, a principality in repose, and the love of Crowley's life. The touch and intimacy of it, of sharing such large expanses of skin and laying utterly vulnerable to each other did something to Crowley's hindbrain in ways she couldn't explain other than hissed approximations of _home-love-safe_. Aziraphale, Crowley thought, felt much the same, and she never ceased delighting in waking up to a cocoon of white feathers mantled over the two of them and a book lit up by Azirpahale's halo until the sun rose early in the morning again.

The best part of sleeping, Crowley would never say aloud, was waking up surrounded by love.


End file.
